Near
by Uozumi
Summary: No one noticed as a once great detective and a once powerful mutant had a conversation over a chessboard in central park.


**Fandom** _Sherlock_ (2010)/ X-Men movie verse (2000 – 2006)  
**Character(s)/Pairing(s)** Erik Lehnsherr, Sherlock Holmes; implied Charles/Erik, implied John/Sherlock  
**Genre** Crossover/Drama  
**Rating** PG  
**Word Count** 808  
**Disclaimer** Sherlock c. BBC, Sir Doyle, X-Men c. Marvel, 20th Century Fox  
**Summary** No one noticed as a once great detective and a once powerful mutant had a conversation over a chessboard in central park.  
**Warning(s)** spoilers up through series two episode three of _Sherlock_, and spoilers for _X-Men_, _X2_, and _X-Men: The Last Stand_.  
**Notes** This is the kind of stuff I think about when I'm at work repairing library books. I picked the 2000's movie verse Magneto because I could hear his voice easily in my head and this is a fic about an old man and a young man.

_**Near**_

The two men recognized one another. It took the man sitting at the chess table in Central Park longer, but he knew by the time his opponent sat across from him that the man was Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock was tall with strong cheekbones and thin lips. His hair was cut shorter than it was in newspapers and a natural shade of red that matched his eyebrows. His brown suit fit snugly to his frame and his red tie brought out the small red line work in the suit.

Sherlock knew who the old chess player was the instant he saw him. The mutant drama in the United States played out on worldwide news networks, affecting mutants around the entire globe. Anyone with half a brain following any of that should be able to deduce the man at the chessboard was Erik Lehnsherr. Although, perhaps the average person would need the flashy helmet and cape to really be aware of how dangerous this man once was. Sherlock followed both sides of the mutant crisis in America and kept an ear to the ground for reverberations in Britain since he was in primary school.

"You always play the black pieces," Sherlock noted.

"It became a habit," Erik stated. "I had a friend who would always pick the white pieces." He carefully began to rearrange the pieces properly on the outdoor chess table.

Once the pieces were in place, the game began. Sherlock had the first move. Five moves later, Sherlock picked up his rook. "It's been seven years since you've made the news." No one around them spared them a second glance. Sherlock did not want to change their anonymity.

"I read about your death," Erik returned. "Dr. Watson wrote a good piece. It was very authentic."

"Did he?" Sherlock knew of the article that ran in various papers after appearing in John's blog a year after Sherlock faked his own death. He had not read it.

"I suppose it wasn't an article for a 'dead' man," Erik conceded. He considered the board once Sherlock placed the rook. "It could be an article for a living man." His eyes lifted from the board and met Sherlock's gaze. Sherlock did not look away. Erik's eyes returned to the game. He moved his knight and leaned back.

Sherlock watched Erik's hands and then studied his face. "You think this is a mistake."

"I said nothing," Erik said. He watched the board, thinking a few moves ahead. "I watched my oldest friend die. He died so that we would not have to." Erik picked up his knight and moved it deeper into Sherlock's side of the board.

"And you think that you understand how John feels because of that?" Sherlock looked from the board to Erik. Then he shook his head. "No. That's not what you're thinking." Although, that seemed to be a popular sentiment amongst the few people who knew Sherlock lived, even if they did not verbally express it.

"I've known real mind readers," Erik said. "Body language can only tell so much." He watched Sherlock capture his bishop. After a moment, Erik asked, "When your friend dies, and you are not anywhere near, what will you do?"

"You were near," Sherlock said, "and yet your friend still died."

"Yes," Erik said. He met Sherlock's eyes. "And I know I could not have prevented it, because I saw it."

Sherlock held Erik's gaze. Play continued in silence until Erik carefully tipped his king over to concede defeat. "It was a good game."

Sherlock began resetting the pieces. It was evident; however, there would not be a second game. "How did he die?"

Erik helped set the pieces. He took a deep breath, taking his time to choose his words. His expression darkened. It was a moment he came to terms with a long time ago. He did not know how much Sherlock knew about mutants or what transpired that long ago. Some articles at the time distorted and changed the truth to suit various needs.

"I know your friend was Charles Xavier. I've read his work. I know what he was, what you were," Sherlock said. "I can't believe he died of 'natural causes.'"

"There was a mutant with powers like Charles' only less stable," Erik said. "We were negotiating when she snapped and began to destroy everything. Charles turned to dust."

It was not the entire story. Sherlock could sense that. His eyes narrowed. Erik's face remained resolute. That was all the information he would give Sherlock on that subject.

"I suppose this is our first and last meeting," Erik said. He enjoyed the game.

"Perhaps," Sherlock acknowledged. He rose from his seat. He would not mind another encounter with the man once known as Magneto, but if that day were to come, it would be in the far future.

**The End**


End file.
